


Five Times Sturmhond Talks With The Crows

by ThefirstRanger



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, M/M, Not everyone knows who Sturmhond really is, Pirating, Possibly King of Scars?, Some angst, Some non-graphic violence and death, Spoilers for Crooked Kingdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThefirstRanger/pseuds/ThefirstRanger
Summary: Sturmhond pays a visit to each of the crows and they talk. Some visits go better than others and some are more for entertainment than work.
Relationships: Inej Ghafa & Sturmhond, Jesper Fahey & Sturmhond, Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker & Sturmhond, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik, Nina Zenik & Sturmhond, Wylan Van Eck & Sturmhond
Comments: 4
Kudos: 100





	1. Captain Ghafa

“Captain Ghafa, come quick!” 

At the sound of her name, Inej rushed over to Omar, her first mate, and looked to where he was pointing to. 

“Cap, there’s a flying ship and I think it’s getting close. What do you recommend we do?” 

Inej felt her lips twitch up and Omar failed to see what was so funny. 

“No, let it draw beside us. Sturmhond is an old friend.” Inej wasn’t really sure if she could call Sturmhond an old friend; she had only really met him that one time during the final heist, but he felt like an old friend. At the very least she knew he would never fire on them. 

Omar gave a signal and a flag was pulled up, signalling the okay to draw up and come aboard. The flying ship with its sails waving started to descend and plopped into the water with a surprising amount of grace. Once the ship pulled beside the Bane of Shadows and Inej gave the command to pull the boardwalk over. 

Soon enough, a delegation of pirates came over and Inej was glad she had elected to wear her slightly better captain’s hat, the one Kaz had bought for her. It gave her confidence and seeing Sturmhond in his element was intimidating despite his friendship. He was a highly experienced pirate and she was just starting off. 

Sturmhond threw his arms open wide and greeted Inej with a big smile. 

“Captain Ghafa! I was hoping I would run into you.” 

Inej returned the warm welcome, stepping forward. “Captain Sturmhond, my crew and I are honored to welcome you onto our humble ship.” Excited whispers broke out when she said Sturmhond’s name. Even in Ketterdam he was famous. Sturmhond heard the whispers and the smile on his face grew even larger if that was possible. Inej decided she liked it when he smiled; it made his face smoother, erasing some of the scars and allowing his big nose to shrink a little. 

“Believe me, we are very excited to be here. Your work on that slaver’s ship a few weeks ago? Wonderful work, simply splendid. If we had more people like you and your crew, we could have a benevolent but tyrannical hold over the seas with only us committing crimes. What do you say Captain Ghafa?” 

Pretending to think about it, Inej tapped her finger to her chin. “A thrilling offer for sure, Sturmhond. Shall we talk it over in my office and perhaps later over a tour of the ship?” 

Sturmhond bowed deeply and stuck out his arm. “Lead the way Captain.”  
~  
“Your crew is impressive given the short time you’ve worked together.” 

“I work well with smaller crews.” Sturmhond smiled knowingly. 

“Yes, you and the crows can do more with six people than most generals can do with an army.” 

That was true, but Inej was hoping she could be just as efficient as with the crows with her crew. A small crew allowed for maneuverability and quick escape for now. Once they started to gain a reputation and go after bigger targets, then Inej would have to expand. Sturmhond could help her then hopefully.

Sturmhond glanced around the modest cabin with a well trained eye. The cabin was sparsely furnished, but the desk was overflowing with papers and maps. There was no bed in sight but above where a bed would have gone was a glass case full of knives. Inej noticed Sturmhond’s interest. 

“That’s my trophy case. I take a knife from every captain or ship we stop and give it to one of the slaves. Most take it for protection, but some give it back to me. It’s my way of remembering each ship.” Sturmhond leaned back approvingly in his chair.

“That’s good. Remembering keeps people grounded and don’t you forget it. If only more kings and criminal masterminds would have that mentality, the world would be a better place.” 

That was an odd phrase, but Sturmhond was verbose and spoke the truth if one could find it within all the words. “Did you talk to Kaz before coming here?” 

“Nothing ever slips by you Captain Ghafa!” 

Inej rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you talked to Kaz?”

“Dirtyhands? The Bastard of the Barrel? My best friend? Kazzykins? We criminals have to stick together and I can get Kaz to do whatever I want.” Inej laughed; she couldn’t imagine Kaz willingly working with the joyful pirate unless millions of kruges were on the line. And she could certainly never imagine Kaz letting Sturmhond call him Kazzykins. Sturmhond slipped her a wink to let her know that he was kidding. 

It felt good to laugh so much with someone who understood. Sturmhond understood Kaz, life at sea, and Inej suspected that Sturmhond understood more about the injustices in life than he let on. Before she had left, Kaz had told her in his usual way that she might expect to meet Sturmhond on the seas and that he was hiding something, but Inej figured Kaz trusted him a little bit more than the average person. Coming from Kaz, even unsaid, was high praise and Inej knew that it was Kaz’s way of saying Sturmhond would help her if needed. 

“Well, if you can get Kaz to do whatever you want, let me know your secret. The saints know I could never get him to be reasonable.” Inej tried for a joking tone, but some bitterness slipped out. It was unreasonable to feel bitter; she and Kaz had parted on great terms, more than Inej ever could have hoped for, but Kaz was Kaz and that not quite enough. 

Sturmhond leaned forward, concern in his eyes. “Captain Ghafa, if I may speak plainly?” 

“You may.” Inej doubted he would speak plainly, but she let him continue. 

“When I spoke to Kaz earlier, he expressed concern for you in his unique way that only Kaz Brekker and possibly you consider acceptable. He was the one who told me to look for your ship and Kazzykins even asked me to give you the help you need if you would accept it.” 

Kaz had shattered men’s bones, killed, and practically waged a war for her, but Inej had never known him to be so caring. 

“Do you think I need help?” It was a challenge and both captains knew it. Sturmhond let the question dangle like a fish before answering. 

“Not right now, no. But later? Yes. You’re going to be a savior to people Inej and you’re going to make some powerful enemies. You’ll need all the powerful, knowledgeable, and famous friends you can get.” 

He had a point, but Inej wanted to forge her own path for now. She needed to be her own person for a while. Inej was tired of being second to the more famous man. “I don’t want your help until you hear plots, plots I won’t hear about, plots that would put the ex slaves in danger,” Here Inej smirked, the irony touching her. “You’ll be my wraith, but this time for justice.”

Sturmhond grinned and Inej could see why he was the scourge of the sea and air. It was positively deadly. 

“You’re more like Kaz than you know, but you’re a much better person Inej Ghafa. I accept those conditions.”

If Inej hadn’t been so sure that Sturmhond would accept her terms, she would have been surprised. She had judged the privateer right. 

“There is one thing that we still need to talk about. When I talked with Kaz, he made mention of a… secret of mine that he knows. A secret that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. As his second in command and an excellent spy, I wanted to know if-” Inej cut him off.

"I don't deal with that sort of information anymore. Those days are behind me." Inej would take it to her grave that Sturmhond was King Nikolai Lanstov, the ruler of Ravka. She knew what that would do it the secret got out. 

Sturmhond's face didn't change but Inej sensed a feeling of relief. Inej was speaking the truth. She may help out Kaz or the others occasionally, but other than that, she was done being the Wraith, collecting secrets. She would guard the secrets she had collected, but she would not collect new ones.

Shouts of excitement came from outside the cabin, interrupting their conversation, and on instinct, both captains rose up from their chairs. One of Sturmhond’s grishas was lifting Omar into the air much to the delight of everyone around. Inej looked at Sturmhond and raised an eyebrow. 

“Well your highness, should we go out and put a stop to that revelry?”

Nikolai crooked an eyebrow right back at her. “I thought you said you didn’t deal with that sort of information anymore.”

Shooting him a sly smile, Inej fired right back. “If we’re going to rule the high seas as benevolent co-rulers, we might as well start using the proper honorifics.” She wanted to add “Your Majesty” to the end, but thought that might be pushing her luck. 

Sturmhond smiled back with his grin splitting his. He offered out his arm and the two privateers walked out into their future partnership together.


	2. Dirtyhands and the Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sturmhond makes an appearance in Ketterdam and Kaz is none too happy about it.

A knock sounded on Kaz’s window and for a brief moment he thought, he hoped, it was Inej. Kaz hadn’t let himself think about how much he had missed her presence until moments like this. He looked over and saw a large figure sitting outside his window. 

Another rap on the window and in an instant Kaz had the window open and his cane at the throat of the intruder. The figure shifted slightly to the left and his face came into the pale, sickly moonlight. Sturmhond. 

Kaz suppressed his annoyance and swung open the window, letting the pirate in. Without a word, Sturmhond eased his way into the room. Immediately, Kaz could see the shadows under Sturmhond’s eyes and the way his gaudy clothes were just a bit too loose for his frame. Interesting. 

Checking to see that they were being listened to, Kaz didn’t wait for the king in disguise to speak. “What are you doing here, Sturmhond?” 

Sturmhond let out a chuckle and looked around. “I thought the Wraith would have been able to tell you that. Where is she anyway?” He looked around like he expected a knife at his throat to appear. For less than a second, Kaz half expected Inej to pop up out of the shadows. 

Inej didn’t appear and Kaz had to explain. “She’s not the Wraith anymore. She’s hunting slaver’s ships on the seas.”

“Oh ho? Good for her! What’s her ship? I’ll keep an eye out for her in the air and on the sea.”

That was kind of Sturmhond, but Kaz knew that no one, especially kings turned pirates, did good things out of the goodness of their hearts. “Inej can take care of herself, she doesn’t need you or me. What do you want, Nikolai?” 

“Always cutting right to the chase, I love it Brekker. That’s why you’re just the man I needed to see. You see, I may have gotten into a bit of trouble while passing through Ketterdam here and I may have made a deal with the remaining remnants of the dime lions for some Purda Jarem." 

“You set up a deal with a failing gang for an illegal substance that makes your citizens go power-crazy?” 

“I knew you would get it, Dirtyhands! It’s a win-win for both of us. I get the Parem off the streets and you get to utterly destroy the Dime Lions once and for all, plus if we play it right you can pretend to hate me. Win-win.” 

If Kaz had been a less composed man, he would have twitched, but he was Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel and so he did not twitch with insolence and annoyance. He merely sat down and crossed his arms, an invitation to continue. Sturmhond smiled a shark’s smile.  
~  
Sturmhond sauntered down the dark alley like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he wasn’t going to meet a gang leader for an illegal drug deal. His teal coat shone in the moonlight and the pirate leaned up against the brick wall waiting for Karel to arrive. 

He was not kept waiting long as the new leader of the Dime Lions appeared with backup. Nikolai smirked to himself; obviously Karel was trying to appear more secure in his position than he was. Kaz hold told him all about how the Dime Lions were one misstep from dissolving. Hopefully tonight would be that misstep. 

“Sturmhond,” growled Karel. The blonde leader was going for intimidating, but didn’t quite achieve it with his high voice. How had Kaz let the Dime Lions build back up again,bbut knowing Kaz, there was always a reason for everything. 

Sturmhond nodded, cool as the sea. “Karel, do you have the Jurda Parem?” 

“Do you have the money?” The gang behind Karel shifted and Nikolai could see one particularly ugly member smack a bat into their hand like it was supposed to frighten him. If he had been a lesser man, Nikolai might have been scared, but he had been a monster and seen tales come to life. Very little could scare him now. 

“I have the money,” Sturmhond fished out a pocket of gold coins to prove his point. “But I’m going to need to see the parem; it needs to be the good stuff. If I’m caught in Ravka with the parem, I’ll be dead on the spot.” Karel laughed, but motioned for the bundle of parem to be brought forward. 

It was more than Nikolai had anticipated. How had this much parem gotten onto the streets? Feigning interest, he ran his hands through the greens. 

“Now, this is worth dying for,” he murmured. 

A cold, even voice came from up above Karel and Nikolai. “I hope it is, Sturmhond, because you’re about to meet the saints.” Both men swung their heads to peer into the darkness. 

Out of the shadows, Kaz Brekker came and the only sound was the sound of his cane tapping on the staircase. Karel’s face blanched; he hadn’t been expecting Dirtyhands tonight. A flash of anger could be seen on Sturmhond’s face before it was wiped away with a look of casual arrogance and nonchalance. 

“What brings you here Brekker?” asked Sturmhond, fingering his pistol. He knew why Dirtyhands was here, but he needed time to stall. 

Kaz walked further down the staircase and Karel’s eyes followed every step. Kaz stopped at the bottom of the stairs and lifted his head. The anger in his eyes was plain to see. 

“We had a deal pirate. I provide the parem, you provide the money. Yet you go and double cross me.” 

“Let me explain…” Karel was looking between the two men with poorly concealed fear on his face. He hadn’t known the pirate had made a deal with Dirtyhands. 

Kaz shook his head, stopping what he was sure would have been a very convincing explanation of Sturmhond’s betrayal. “You don’t mess with the Crows.”

At his words, a swarm of gang members appeared out of the shadows and completely overwhelmed the Dime Lions. Sturmhond growled and whipped out his pistols, but Karel interrupted him with a punch to the face. 

“Don’t kill me Brekker! I had no idea that he-” 

His cane swung out and Kaz brought Karel to the ground. Karel wasn’t even worth talking to; he was a bug under Kaz’s foot. Another swing of the cane and Karel was unconscious. While this was happening, Sturmhond had tried to sneak away into the chaos, but Anika cornered him and pushed him towards Kaz. 

The Dime Lions were either getting beaten or running away like cowards. Soon only Sturmhond was left in front of Kaz. Blood trickled from his mouth and the famous pirate had never looked so defeated.

The pirate rushed toward the mastermind in an attempt to gain freedom, swinging his fists, but Kaz stepped to the side and Sturmhond collapsed to the ground. It was time for the grand finale. Looking around, Kaz saw the lions were running away, but he made sure one was looking back when he emptied a bullet into Sturmhond’s chest. The fading cry of surprise ensued that all everyone would be talking about tomorrow was how Dirtyhands killed the legendary pirate. Add in the spreading of the news through the Crow gang and Sturmhond’s crew, both Ravka and Ketterdam would know of the events that transpired tonight. 

The noise faded away and the Crows started to disperse, drunk on the victory. They had annihilated the Lions and Kaz had killed the famous Sturmhond. The parties tonight would be epic. Kaz stood over the pirate’s still body until he was sure they were alone and kicked the body none too softly in the side. 

“You know, I thought death would be a bit more permanent,” grunted Sturmhond as Kaz offered his cane to pull the pirate up. 

“If you keep talking, it will be. I’ve always wanted to kill royalty.”

Blood spilled from Nikolai’s chest and he grimaced in distaste as he wiped the goat’s blood from his hands onto his pants. It did hurt when Kaz shot him with the rubber bullet; there would be a bruise tomorrow.

“Remind me to wear worse clothes next time. It’ll be a beast to get the stain out from these pants.” It would be hard to get the stains out, but it had been worth it. Another shipment of parem off the streets and another tale to add to the tapestry of Sturmhond. 

Kaz didn’t say anything, but kept staring at Nikolai like he was trying to see the king underneath. It was unnerving to say the least, but Nikolai kept talking.

“Why haven’t we done more heists together? We could go undercover and destroy the nobility of Ketterdam and Ravka. I know a great tailor. She could fix you up a disguise if you didn’t want to go as Kaz Brekker.” The tone was nonchalant and almost joking, but the offer was genuine. They did make a surprisingly good team and robbing the rich was something Kaz loved to do. “I could introduce you as an obscure royal from somewhere and you could scam all the stuffy nobles in my courts. They deserve it.”

The offer was tempting, if a little too easy and out of Kaz’s normal wheelhouse. But he did consider it. 

“There’s the scheming face I know and love.” Kaz had heard all about his scheming face from the crows and had ignored all the jibes, but hearing it come from Sturmhond made him want to smash the king’s nose a little more. 

“Just promise me you’ll think about the offer.” Sturmhond’s tone was serious as he started to amble away with the parem. 

Something overcame Kaz and he blurted out, “I’ll think it over if you’ll give Inej whatever she needs. Supplies, men, support, anything.” Sturmhond stopped and for one brief, terrifying second Kaz thought he was going to turn around. 

“Deal.” Having gotten the last word, Sturmhond disappeared into the streets of Ketterdam.

Kaz stood in the darkness for a minute, mulling things over before beginning to walk back to the club. Sturmhond hadn’t been wrong; all things considered, it had been a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This technically takes place before the "Captain Ghafa" chapter, but it can be read by itself.


	3. The (former) Heartrender

Nina clutched the invitation in her hand tightly as she walked down the street towards the mansion. The invitation had arrived earlier at her quarters in the palace and at first Nina had thought it a poem of a lovesick admirer. Ever since coming back to the Second Army and training with her new powers, Nina had commanded more attention, love, and respect than before. She sort of hated it. She had gone to throw the invitation in the fire before a glance at the seal stopped her. It was a ship flying above the waves, the telltale symbol of the pirate Sturmhond. There wasn’t a person alive in Ravka who hadn’t heard of Sturmhond the privateer who helped King Nikolai in the war and had a legion of flying ships at his disposal. At once a rogue and a national hero, Sturmhond was infamous. What could he want with her? 

Before Nina knew it, she had arrived at the abandoned mansion. It was a common secret that Sturmhond had snatched up the house and procured it as his own during the war and the king had never bothered to kick him out as a favor for his help in the war. Before Nina could even knock on the door, the massive gilt doors swung open to show a dark, but gilded hallway. It seemed like Sturmhond kept his decor consistent like his personality; flashy, layered, and rather off putting. 

A figure appeared and Nina didn’t recognize them. The man beckoned for her to follow him and Nina followed the man to a door which swung open to reveal Sturmhond sitting in the middle of the candlelit room. An extravagant dinner surrounded him. 

“You can go Privyet.”Sturmhond waved a lazy hand and Nina was left alone with the infamous pirate. She studied him; his ruddy red hair was tousled, his nose bumpy from breaks- something Nina used to have been able to heal- and he gave off the air of being far too pleased with himself. Despite herself, Nina liked him.

“Welcome Miss Zenik. Please sit down.” Sturmhond gestured toward the table and Nina sat down on the opposite side. 

Nina thought it best to shut down anything right at the beginning. “If you are looking for pleasure, Sturmhond, I will not help you.” 

Sturmhond looked like he was about to laugh, but he instead leaned forward with a smile on his face. 

“You get right to the point; that’s good. This isn’t some romantic tryst Nina. I have only one love,” He threw his arms around himself like a lovesick teen. “And she is the sea. Or possibly the air.”

“Or gold.” Nina’s voice was flat; she was in no mood to get toyed around with. Sturmhond was wasting her time. 

“Well, gold is always an attractive force I will admit. But I merely want to talk, Nina, and possibly recruit.” 

She shook her head. There was no way she would join Sturmhond’s flying crew. It wasn’t that she was opposed to piracy, not at all, but Nina knew deep down in her heart that she was needed in Fjerda. 

“Your crew is not the place for me.”

Sturmhond picked up his glass and swished the drink around, studying her. “And where would your place be? You are the only one of your kind, a new grisha, and a grieving soul. What better place for both of those things than a pirate ship? You would be respected and children everywhere would be told tales of the Dread Grisha Pirate Nina Zenik.” 

Nina had always wanted stories told about her all through the land, she had told Matthias as much, but the ache in her heart when she thought of sailing away was all the answer she needed. It was tempting, but her heart said no. 

“There was a time where I would have joined you, but I am a different woman. I am meant for changing minds and motions, for destroying the corruption in Fjerda, not robbing ships of their gold.”

Sturmhond grinned even wider and Nina felt like she had stumbled into some sort of trap, a trap she had no idea was coming. 

“I have the ear of the king. I could introduce motions for you.” His tone was at once haughty and self aware; he knew he had nothing real to sway Nina. 

“I too have the ear of the king.” A bit of an exaggeration, but King Nikolai was a friend and he owed her. Sturmhond smirked like he knew something Nina did not. Nina ignored him. “I can introduce ideas to him at any time.”

“And say I was the king of Ravka. What motions would you suggest to me?” His tone was playful and the smile on his face lessened his rough features, but underneath all that, Nina sensed that the pirate was dead serious about wanting to listen to her answer. There was an undercurrent of seriousness in his face and Nina had to force back a gulp. His hair glinted almost golden in the candlelight. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way. She chose her words carefully. 

“If you were the king of Ravka, I’d recommend that you passed better policies for Grisha abroad and more control over the jurda parem. More policies to control its use and more safe, controlled experiments to figure out a cure.” Nina wanted to say so much more, but she stopped herself. What was she thinking? This was a silly game with a frivolous pirate that wasn’t going to change anything. She pushed her plate aside and turned her head to the side so Sturmhond wouldn’t see the tears welling up. 

He rushed to her side, gently placing his hands on hers. “Nina, Nina, Nina,” Sturmhond crooned, the sound comforting to her ears. “Do not cry. I didn’t mean to make you shed tears.”

She pushed him aside, her anger flaring. How dare he? 

“Well what did you mean to do? You have hurt me with your silly games!” 

Sturmhond sighed and ran a hand through his mane of hair. “I only meant to ask you your opinions. King Nikolai has given me the command to go to Fjerda before he meets with the delegation and I wanted to hear from firsthand experience what the country is like. I truly did not mean to upset you.” 

The sincerity was evident in his voice and it was the most emotion Nina had heard out of him all evening. Her anger deflated out of her, leaving her empty. Nina’s voice shook ever so slightly as she spoke. 

“Fjerda is a harsh place, but there is beauty there. Matthias knew that and he taught me to see the good.” 

“I wish I could have met him.” Nina looked at Sturmhond to see if he was joking, but there was only seriousness in his tone. 

“He would have hated you.” At first Sturmhond couldn’t tell if Nina was joking or not, but the tiny raise at the corner of her lips soon split into a larger grin and they both started to laugh and cry at the same time. Neither of them knew how long the pair of them just sat there crying, laughing, and feeling raw. Nina had no idea why Sturmhond was crying with her, but she accepted his company. 

After too long and too short of a time, Sturmhond offered his arm to Nina and she took it gratefully. It was time for her to leave. They walked together arm in arm out of the dark mansion. At the door, Sturmhond turned to Nina. 

“We will make Ravka a better place, I promise you that Nina.” 

Oddly enough, Nina believed him.


	4. The Merchling and the Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sturmhond needs Wylan's help in the market to avoid paying a debt. It goes about as well as planned.

Ravka wasn’t what Wylan was expecting. Granted, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. The country was a weird mix of a country trying to modernize itself after a civil war and a country that didn’t want to leave it’s roots. So to Wylan, it was endlessly fascinating to explore. Jesper and Wylan had been staying at the palace and exploring the Second Army. 

Jesper was touring the Fabrikators area and Wylan had decided to explore the markets around the palace. He needed to pick up some ingredients for his kit and it would be nice to see more of Ravka. He had been in little Ravka before, but the actual Ravka was much more fascinating.

The stalls were crammed full with anything Wylan could imagine and he was content to wander around, taking in all the sights and sounds. He walked around, almost daydreaming, until he passed by an alley. 

“Enjoying the market?” A rough voice called out to Wylan and he spun in shock, hand slipping toward his combustion kit. 

A lurid shock of hair and a bandaged nose accompanied a scarred face peering out of the darkness.

It took a moment for Wylan to place the face. It was Sturmhond and Wylan relaxed a little, but not much. 

“Sturmhond?”

Sturmhond looked around like he was watching for someone. “Shhhhh. Come here.”

A year ago, Wylan would have never walked into a back alley at the request of a infamous pirate in a foreign country, but this was surprisingly one of the least weird things that happened in the last year. Plus Wylan had grown and while he wasn’t sure he could take Sturmhond in a fight, he was pretty sure a good explosion or two could do the trick. 

In the alley, Wylan could see that Sturmhond was clutching his side and was groaning slightly. 

“Kruge, are you bleeding?” exclaimed Wylan, dreading the answer. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do

“Yes, I am and there’s a particularly determined fellow who wants to finish the job so time is of the utmost importance.”

At least Sturmhond openly admitted when he was hurt unlike Kaz, but Wylan had thought he would be able to have a vacation from escapades like this. 

“What do you want me to do?”

Sturmhond groaned a little louder. “I need you to walk me to the palace and keep me upright. Oh, and if you see a man rushing towards us, throw a grenade at him. If Zoya’s rushing towards us, a grenade won’t stop her so just let her drag me back.” 

Wylan blinked at the nonchalant way Sturmhond talked. Even while he was bleeding out, the pirate seemed like he had no care in the world. The curly haired man decided now was not the time for questions and hoisted Sturmhond onto his shoulder. 

“May I ask what exactly you did to make someone so desperate to kill you?” 

A laugh was mixed in with the groan. “It’s “Can I ask what exactly you did” and you mean besides lead a public revolt against the revered Darkling and be an all around general menace of a pirate? Not much that would make him mad.” 

Wylan glared at him. Sturmhond had no right to correct him on grammar when Sturmhond himself was wrong and Wylan wanted a real answer.

"Oh all right, I cheated him out of a large amount of money last night and he's still upset."

That sounded more appropriate for Sturmhond. 

“He won’t be expecting me to be with someone else. We can walk out in plain sight.”

“I don’t think you know what plain sight means, but if that’s what you want.” Wylan’s opinion of Sturmhond was rapidly changing by the minute. He thought this whole “in plain sight” plan was ludicrous, but Wylan didn’t have it in him to argue with the bleeding pirate. 

The pair stumbled out of the alley and looked around; the coast was clear. Sturmhond was propped on Wylan’s shoulder and while they drew many curious stares, the plan seemed to be working. No one had approached them and Sturmhond didn’t see his foe anywhere. The peace lasted for maybe ten minutes before Sturmhond hissed into Wylan's ear. 

"That's our man!"

The man in question was stalking down the street, his dark eyes inspecting everyone closely. Wylan had to push back a gulp of fear, however brief it may have been. The pirate looked like he meant business. The pirate made his way up to Wylan and Sturmhond, who was acting loopy. Wylan was so close that he could smell the pirate's pungent breath. 

"What are you two doing?"

Wylan did his best to smile at the man. "I'm just carrying him home." Best to be short and sweet. 

The pirate sniffed the air, he didn't seem to recognize Sturmhond yet. “What are you, brothers or something?” 

Wylan looked at Sturmhond. He wouldn't have thought they could pass as brothers, but Sturmhond hair in this light looked more of a golden red, much closer to Wylan's own color than the florid red, and somehow Sturmhond's nose had straightened up a little under the bandage. 

Sturmhond grinned up at the pirate. "Isn't my little brother such a helpful guy? You would never know that he's a demolition expert for a Kerch street gang." He was telling the truth, or at least part of it, but Wylan was shocked and nearly elbowed Sturmhond in the side. 

The man crossed his arms and looked unamused. 

In the best Ravkan he could muster, Wylan said “Please excuse my brother. He is quite sick and he thinks that,” Here Wylan motioned with his hands, miming drinking out of a bottle. “He thinks that alcohol helps everything.” 

The man narrowed his eyes and Wylan gave him his best, most guileless smile. Beside him, Sturmhond started to hum and Wylan recognized the tune immediately. He had heard it played enough times in the past two weeks. It was the Ravkan national anthem. 

“Oh Ravkaaaaa…” Wylan held out the note for as long as he could. 

The other pirate scoffed. “It seems like you too enjoy hitting the bottle.”

Wylan shrugged innocently and Sturmhond was still humming. He was pretty sure the humming was to cover up his groans of pain, but it worked. The man stormed off, his eyes sweeping the streets for a foe he didn't realize was right in front of him.

“You make a convincing drunk.”

Wylan shrugged. “It’s kind of my thing.” He thought back to the time in the Ice Court and smiled. Sturmhond smiled too, but it was obvious he had no idea what Wylan was talking about. 

“We’re almost at the palace,” directed Sturmhond. “Take a left up here.”

Indeed, the gleaming palace was to their left and Wylan led Sturmhond to the side door he had been using all week. It was silent and rarely used; so essentially it was perfect for smuggling in a wounded pirate. 

They staggered inside the doors. Almost immediately, Sturmhond felt a burden lift off of his shoulders and he stumbled out of Wylan’s arms to sit on a marble bench. Wylan, feeling no more ridiculous than he’d felt singing the Ravkan anthem earlier, started to twirl his arms around to get the feeling back in them.

“Thank you Wylan. You’ve done me a huge favor.”

“It was no problem.” 

“Who are you talking to, babe?” 

At the sound of Jesper’s voice, Wylan stopped twirling his arms and looked around in shock. Sturmhond was nowhere to be seen and Jesper had taken his place. Jesper smiled at his boyfriend and Wylan had no idea what to tell him. 

“I think I just got conned by a pirate somehow.” 

Jesper’s brow furrowed and he looked confused. Wylan wasn’t making any sense right now. Before Jesper could speak, King Nikolai appeared, leaning on a column with a spectacular dark red coat around him. 

“Jesper,” Nikolai nodded magnomiously. His mouth curled up at the sides like Nikolai knew a secret Wylan and Jesper didn’t. “Wylan.”

Wylan stared at Nikolai for a full minute; something seemed familiar and off about him, he just couldn’t figure out what. Eventually Nikolai grinned and slinked off and Wylan gave up trying to figure out the king. He looped his arm in Jesper’s and started to walk down the hall. 

“Tell me all about your day…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this, I imagined that Nikolai got caught injured and his tailoring started to wear off and while Sturmhond is conspicuous, the king of Ravka bleeding out in the streets is even more so. He needed Wylan's help to get back to the palace so he could get patched up.


	5. The Sharpshooter and the Privateer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter because I didn't really have a good handle on how to write Jesper. Sorry :(

Jesper and Wylan were nestled together on the side of the ship coming back to Ketterdam. It had been a nice trip to Ravka, but it was time to come home. The captain had promised a pleasant journey and that promise seemed to be holding. The day was warm for Ravka and the sun was shining in their eyes. 

Suddenly, a shadow crossed the sun and the world was dark for a moment. Then a flying ship dropped down next to the boat, splashing water onto the deck. 

“I believe you and I have already had our talk, Wylan. Can I borrow Jesper and show him around the ship?” 

Jesper could hear Wylan mutter under his breath “It’s ‘May I borrow Jesper’” but Jesper didn’t care about grammar. He wanted to tour the flying ship. He didn’t even register the fact that Wylan had a one on one talk with Sturmhond earlier. 

“Please take me up on your ship.” 

Sturmhond smiled and extended a hand. “I’d like nothing more.”  
~  
The tour had been amazing, like something out of a childhood dream. The sweeping masts, the glimmering treasure casually strewn around, the people. It was just like Jesper had imagined it. 

As they walked along, Sturmhond had provided a steady stream of commentary about everything from the workings of the ship to tales of prisons Sturmhond had escaped from. Right now, Jesper wasn’t even sure what Sturmhond was in the middle of talking about, he was so distracted by everything. 

“I like to think of myself as a rascal or a privateer, not a pirate. It sounds so… common and rough.” Sturmhond was dodging something, Jesper could feel it. The stories had been nice, but there had to be more to this visit. It was time to figure out the truth.

“Why did you bring me up here?”

“I told you back when we first met that I would show you my flying ship if you came to Ravka. Here we are.” Sturmhond spread his arms wide. It was glorious to be on a flying ship and with Sturmhond no less, but Jesper was sure that wasn’t the reason Sturmhond had brought him up here. No way. Jesper shook his head. 

“I want the truth.”

“You’re more perceptive than you let on,” admitted Sturmhond. 

“I’m a sharpshooter; I have to be.” Jesper felt that was a cool enough answer. 

“I brought you here to make a case for staying in Ravka.”

Out of all the things Jesper was expecting to come out of Sturmhond’s mouth, that was not one of them. Maybe a proposal or a declaration that this was a hostage situation and Wylan was going to have to break out some elaborate plan to save him or… where was he going with this? Oh yeah, the improbability of Sturmhond asking him to stay in Ravka. 

Sturmhond took the silence as an invitation to continue. “I know you’re one of the finest sharpshooters I’ve ever seen, including myself, and my people tell me that you show potential with your Durast training.”

Ravkans had been telling Jesper that, but they couldn’t quite hide their sighs when he couldn’t shape a basic form that a child could do. 

“I need people I can trust,” Sturmhond and Nikolai needed good men. “These are difficult days and there is a storm coming. Join my crew.”

There might have been a time where Jesper would have said yes with no hesitation in his voice. This was not that time. He was tired of fighting for other people, he was tired of death. He wanted to make a new life with Wylan, a life where he could have a home to go back to. 

“I can’t fight for you.”

“I expected you to say that.” Sturmhond sounded resigned but not annoyed. He slumped down on the side of the ship, the first time Jesper had ever seen the privateer look not in control. 

“I want to try and live life without worrying if I’m going to get shot everyday.” Sturmhond couldn’t deny the man that, it was all he wanted to do too. 

Jesper sat down beside him. He wasn’t sure what to say to the ginger so they sat there in silence, the sharpshooter and the pirate. Neither of them were sure how long they sat there, just thinking and enjoying the other’s company. Sturmhond was right; anyone with half a brain could tell there was a storm coming in Ravka, but Jesper didn’t owe his love to that country. He couldn’t fight the storm for Ravka the way Sturmhond wanted him to. 

Eventually the pirate seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and stood up. Jesper followed suit. He’d never know what the pirate had been thinking about, but he had a good guess. 

Jesper extended a hand and Sturmhond took it. 

“Thank you for showing me around the ship.”

Sturmhond grinned his crooked grin. “It was my pleasure. If you ever get tired of living the comfortable life, there will always be a place for you on my ship.”

Maybe someday, when the itch for adventure overtook Jesper again, he might take that offer. But for now, Jesper was content to walk into the future with no plan hand in hand with Wylan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the five times are done, but it's really a 5+1 fic... 
> 
> Can you guess who is next?


	6. And One Time He Didn't...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CK spoilers

Visiting Fjerda was always a tricky time. There was the delicate nature of Fjerdan-Ravkan diplomacy to balance as well as Nikolai’s more… personal issues with showing his face in Fjerda. But this time, it wasn’t his face in Fjerda; it was Sturmhond who dared to show his face. 

A redhead with a broken nose didn’t attract nearly as much attention as the king of Ravka did and Nikolai needed anonymity for his mission today. Flicking a coin to the nearby waiter for the decent enough soup, Sturmhond began trudging out of the tiny bar, heading for the nearby mountain. 

A light dusting of snow buffeted Sturmhond as he walked up the hills. He wondered what the Fjerdan word for this type of snow was. It was times like this where Nikolai enjoyed Fjerda. The landscape was beautiful, though nothing compared to Ravka, and the people were pleasant enough if one only wanted to talk about eating, drinking, and wolves. Which, now that he thought about it, the first two weren’t the worst topics in the world. But he didn’t have time for mundane conversation. Sturmhond was on a mission.The trek was short enough and soon Nikolai was where he wanted to be– a small graveyard. 

Smaller than any of the rooms in his palace, his ship even, the space had an air of sacredness to it. Nikolai didn’t believe in Djel, but in that moment he could see why people did. He went to the furthest edge of the plot and knelt down by the farthest marker. It was new and small with the only markings on it being the name “Benedik” and a small carving of a bird. 

Nina had told him tearfully that his grave would have been desecrated if she had put Matthias’ full name on there; this was the most she dared to put and even that was pushing the borders of anonymity. Sturmhond placed a wrapped bundle by the marker. Matthias didn’t deserve this; he deserved so much more.

“I don’t think we ever got a chance to talk, or even properly meet each other, and I regret that deeply Matthias Helvar.” No answer, not that he was expecting Djel to raise Matthias’ spirit to have a nice chat with him. The wind howled in the background like a wolf mourning the loss of a cub.

“For most of our lives, our nations were enemies and they still are, but you were the start of change. You are the start of change in the nations of Fjerda and Ravka.” Matthias was the thawing of ice, the rock thrown in the middle of an ice pond. Tensions between the overall nations hadn’t improved, but there had been reports of less skirmishes on the border and Fjerdan citizens warming up to Ravkans. It was something.

“Talking with Nina, she misses you terribly you know, I get the feeling you and I would have gotten along famously as both King Nikolai and Sturmhond. I would have teased you too much and you would have hated me for being a pirate and the king. That’s how it goes, I suppose.” Sturmhond would have made fun of Matthias for being too uptight and King Nikolai would probably have been passive aggressive to the man in a joking way. But Matthias had been a good man underneath everything and Nikolai knew when to stop a joke. He felt like they would have reached some understanding. 

Sensing a presence behind him, Nikolai turned to see an old couple stoop by another gravestone. Sturmhond needed to leave soon; the less visitors at Benedik’s grave, the less Matthias would be disturbed. He turned back to the grave and started to dig a shallow hole and placed the wrapped bundle in it. No one needed to see the highest Ravkan medal of honor being placed by the grave of some poor, anonymous Fjerdan. The double headed eagle would shine its golden light in the Fjerdan ground forever more, but no living soul besides Nikolai would see it. He hadn’t even told Nina he was giving Matthias this honor.

As Nikolai paused by the grave, he heard a rustle from the woods. Slowly, a white wolf entered his line of vision. Nikolai's hand edged toward his pistol, but something stopped him. Intuition, a gut feeling, faith even. The wolf stared into his eyes and suddenly Nikolai understood why Fjerdans revered these creatures so much. It was like looking into a mirror. After a moment, the wolf disappeared back into the woods without a trace it had ever been there. 

The couple behind Sturmhond gasped. Wolves were rarely seen in this part of the woods; they rarely interacted with non-Fjerdans and this rough looking redhead was no Fjerdan.

"Son, did you see that? You know, wolves are good luck sent from Djel." 

Sturmhond let a bitter smile appear on his face. "Yes, I know." The couple shrugged at his lack of excitement and went back to tending the headstone. The stranger was obviously not from around here otherwise he would have been thrilled at seeing a holy animal. Nikolai turned back to the headstone in front of him.

"I want to ask your permission to use your story. If there is one tangible story, one change that people could listen to, it could start a thaw. My half sister is interested in a meeting and I think your story could convince her. The start of a new era." He owed Matthias so much. In a different life, one Nikolai didn’t particularly like to think about, Nikolai could have been a druskelle. He and Matthias could have been brothers in arms. He might have been happy. Although Nikolai supposed that he had always been bad at taking orders from authority figures. Sturmhond might have been a famous Fjerdan pirate instead of a Ravkan one. He might have been more hated too.

Nikolai shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn’t do good to dwell on what might have happened. What mattered was the present and the future, not the past. The snow started to fall with more intensity, signalling it was time to go. Sturmhond got up and dusted off his pants. 

"Goodbye Benedik. Your legacy will live on, I promise." Nikolai and Sturmhond would make sure of it, even if it was the last thing he did.

With one last look at Matthias’ marker, Sturmhond went to confront his family and bring peace to his nation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
